


Painted in the Color of the Skies

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky just really loves Steve, Bucky loves that about him, Christmas Party, Coulson loves Bucky, Fanboy Phil Coulson, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Natasha cuts Bucky's hair, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve, Smut, Steve is bossy in bed, Top Bucky Barnes, and he needs a hug, power bottom Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7497276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bucky made Steve blush and once it was the other way around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painted in the Color of the Skies

**1\. 1928**

Steve kept his head low when he walked so it was obvious that he didn't see the group of boys walking towards him before it was too late. They grabbed his books from his arms and threw them on the floor.

"Hey!" Steve shouted, curling his small hands into fists.

"What're you gonna do about it?" The dark haired boy says and the others behind him snicker as if he's told a joke.

"You're being mean. Hasn't your ma' told you not to be bullies?" Steve argues and he reaches down to pick up the scattered books. The boy - Thomas - takes that chance to push him and the boys behind him start laughing. Steve falls to the floor, the pavement scraping his knee. Droplets of blood start seeping through the cuts and he bites his bottom lip as he tries to contain his tears. He shifts around to try and stand but Thomas continues to keep pushing him down.

Steve whines, flailing his arms out, trying to defend himself in some way. Thomas grips him by his arm, pushing him against the wall. The bricks hurt his back and he sniffles softly.

"Leave me alone," Steve whispers, wiping his nose with the edge of his shirt. Thomas only laughs and moves to say something when a boy rounds the corner and sees them.

"What're you doing to him?" The boy says, running up to the group.

"S'not you're business," Thomas replies, barely turning to look at him. The reaction only seems to drive the boy more and he walks up to Thomas, pushing him roughly.

"Bully!" He yells out, sticking his tongue out, "Leave or I'll tell your ma'."

Thomas grimaces before standing up, dusting himself off and leaving with his friends. The boy turns to Steve, smiling widely, showing off two missing teeth. Steve looks down, rubbing his arm softly.

"What's your name?" The boy asks, watching as Steve struggles to pick up his books. He bends down and grabs some scattered pages of his pencil drawings.

"Steve-"

"Oh wow, you draw really good! These are sick!"

"Thanks," Steve whispers, staring at the papers in his hands. The boy smiles handing them back before linking their arms together.

"My names' James Buchanan Barnes," The boy says and Steve offers a small smile, still confused as to why he's talking to him.

"Hi, James Bu-chan?"

"No, _Buchanan_ ," The boy says, sounding out the syllables slowly. Steve furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.

"Bucknan?"

" _Buchanan_!" He offers again, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Can't I just say Bucky?"

"Okay. Only if I can call you Stevie," The name has a light blush crawling up his cheeks, making his ears feel hot and hands clammy.

"Sure. Whatever you want," Steve whispers, hugging his books closer to his chest. The boy - Bucky - grins as if he was just handed the worlds greatest gift.

"Wanna be friends?" He asks suddenly and Steve looks at him weirdly.

"Um," He starts, wondering if this is all a prank.

"I'll take that as a yes. Come on!" Bucky pulls him down the block, talking loudly the entire time, and for once, Steve feels safe.

 

**2\. 1937**

"No, Steve, left foot - no, _left_ ," Bucky sighs, exasperated. Steve curses under his breath and pushes himself away.

"It's no use, Buck. I'm hopeless," The blond mutters, sitting on the couch. Bucky gives him a fond smile, leaning against the back of the couch, staring at Steve with wandering eyes. He was such a frail thing, all skin and bones, but his personality made him seem twice Bucky's size. He was soft curves and sharp edges, pale skin littered with moles, and opaque blue eyes that had Bucky losing his train of thought. He's glad that Steve is facing away from him, because how would he explain the way he's staring at him?

"No you're not, pal. Just rusty," Bucky says. Steve sighs and crosses his arms over his chest.

"It's useless. It's not like dames are lining up for a dance with me," He whispers.

"Steven Grant Rogers, don't you dare think so low of yourself. Any dame would be lucky to have you," Bucky reprimands, slapping the back of his head softly. Steve turns and shoots him a glare, rubbing his head.

"It's true, Buck. I mean, when's the last time I even went on a date?" Bucky opens his mouth to reply. "Don't you dare say Martha because she was just with her friend that _you_ took on a date. She didn't talk to me at all."

Bucky closes his mouth.

"You see what I mean? I don't get why I gotta learn to dance when I ain't ever gonna get a girl," Steve says, biting his bottom lip. He fiddles with his fingers and Bucky reaches over the couch and grips his hands.

"You gotta stop thinking like that, pal. Just because you think that doesn't mean that someone out there doesn't love you," Bucky says, moving to sit next to him on the couch.

"Oh? And who's that?"

"Me, punk," Bucky says and Steve looks down at their hands for a moment before his cheeks tint with red. The blush creeps up his neck, settling on his cheeks, making them rosy. Bucky knows that this looks wrong, so wrong. He's glad his ma' has work and his siblings are out for God knows what. Steve doesn't dare look up, continues staring at their hands as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. It probably is.

"You," He starts but closes his mouth quickly, biting his bottom lip.

"Aw, Steve, you idiot," Bucky says and moves his hand to the nape of Steve's neck, pulling him forward until they're flushed against each other.

"Buck-"

"Shut up, punk," Bucky takes that moment to lean forward, lips ghosting over Steve's, giving him a chance to move away if he doesn't want this. But he doesn't. Bucky smiles, fingers finding their way to Steve's lips, thumbs running over them softly. Steve's breath hitches and his eyes flutter shut, eyelashes dancing over his cheeks. Bucky could sit here and admire him all day, God, that's all he wants.

He kisses him before he even thinks about doing it, and believe me, he's thought about it many times before. Steve gasps, fingers tightening on Bucky's shoulders, gripping onto him like a lifeline. Bucky kisses him like it's his job, pushing up against him, moaning quietly when Steve bites his lip, shuddering at the feeling. He pulls away slowly, staring up at Steve, who wears red glossy lips like it's in style and with a dark blush coating his cheeks.

 

**3\. 1940**

Bucky leans over the back of their couch, resting his head on his bent arms.

"What're you drawing, Stevie?" he asks. Steve doesn't look up, fingers continue to drag the pencil across the paper.

"Just something for the paper," He mutters, "It's a draft though."

Bucky hums, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his hair, staying there for a moment too long. He moves away and sits next to Steve, kicking off his shoes. His feet find their way under Steve's thigh, making the blond shiver at the cold.

"Your feet are icicles, Buck."

"And your thighs are warm," Bucky flashes him a grin and Steve rolls his eyes but a small smile plays at his lips. He continues to work, and at some point Bucky dozes off, head lolling to the edge of couch, arms crossed over his chest.

 

He wakes up some time later and Steve is still on the couch, bent over his notebook of drawings he never lets Bucky see. He's drawing feverishly, not noticing when Bucky is awake, staring at him.

"What're you drawing that's got you looking so determined?" Bucky asks, lifting himself up with his elbows.

"You," Steve whispers, biting his bottom lip, "But I just - I can't get your lips right."

"Well, maybe you just need to come closer, get all up close and personal with them," Bucky says, giving Steve a lopsided smile. The blond blushes, hands stop moving across the paper and then he's tossing the notebook away, letting it clatter to the floor before crawling onto Bucky's lap. Bucky sighs in content, hands finding their way to his hips, gripping him firmly.

Steve kisses him quickly; it's as if he doesn't, Bucky would disappear at any second. The kiss is messy, too much teeth and tongue but neither of them mind, too busy gasping and moaning into each others mouths, trying to stay as quiet as they can.

"Stevie..." Bucky whines, fingers digging into the pale skin of his abdomen where his shirt rode up. Steve has his hands on Bucky, playing with the buttons of his shirt and the hem of his pants.

"Goddammit, Steve. Do _something_ ," Bucky shudders, back arching. Steve's fingers start unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Bucky sits up quickly, tossing the shirt to the floor before lying back down, letting Steve have him as he pleases. It didn't come as a shock to Bucky that when they started fooling around, Steve was a bossy little shit in bed. He didn't mind, not at all.

Steve continued to ghost his fingers over his skin, making the brunet groan in annoyance. His hands tighten on Steve's waist, but the smaller boy takes his hands and places them against the couch.

"No touching," He whispers. Bucky huffs but grips onto the couch as if he was going to fall at any moment.

"Please," He whines quietly, "God, wanna fuck you, Stevie. _Please_."

Steve hums softly, gyrating his hips to cause painstakingly beautiful friction on his aching cock. Bucky gasps quietly, fingers digging into the couch. Steve smiles, rolling his hips again and this time Bucky moans loudly, arching his back obscenely.

"Gotta keep quiet, Buck," Steve says, nipping at the exposed collarbones. Bucky grunts, biting his bottom lip. Steve kisses down his chest, ink stained fingers leaving prints on his pectorals, his abdomen. He unbuttons his pants, pulling them down slowly, making Bucky whine low in the back of his throat. Steve was the only person who saw him like this, so needy and begging for whatever Steve gave him. He took whatever he was handed with greedy hands and always sat back and waited for more. Anything. Steve was so small, yet he controlled him in a way that no one else could see. He'd do anything for him and the feelings were mutual.

Once Bucky's pants were around his thighs, cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, Steve leaned down, mouthing at the outline. Bucky moans, throwing his head back. The feeling of Steve's hot mouth on him is something he'll never get used to. It'll always leave him aching for one more touch. Steve tugged the underwear down, leaving him exposed, writhing on the small couch. 

Steve takes him into his mouth, red lips glistening with saliva. Bucky whines loudly at the sight, biting into his forearm to keep quiet. Steve bobs his head quickly, tongue circling around the head, bony hands working whatever he can't fit into his mouth. Bucky wants to touch him, wants to fuck up into his mouth until he's gagging. 

But.

Steve told him no touching.

He shifts his hips up and Steve moans around his cock, pressing his hips down, laying his hands flat against his stomach.

"Stevie, God. So good, so good, always so good," Bucky babbles, his thoughts a string of  _SteveSteveSteve_ and _moremoremore_. He was addicting and Bucky would never be able to have enough. Steve sucks around the head of his cock, looking up at Bucky with glazed eyes.

He comes from the sight with a loud moan. 

Steve swallows his come with scrunched eyes and Bucky gives a breathy laugh.

"Quite the mouth you got on ya," He says. The comment has Steve becoming flustered, cheeks reddening completely.

"Oh now you're all shy and embarrassed. Get over here, punk," Bucky tugs at his arm and Steve falls towards him.

 

**4\. 1943**

Bucky looked up at Steve - he was still getting used to that - and watched as he suited up, strapping the bowel onto his head. He still wasn't completely used to this mountain of a person actually being Steve. _His Steve._

But he was. He was still the same punk with no self preservation. He still looked like Steve, in some ways. With his dirty blond hair, opaque blue eyes. He still tasted like Steve when they kissed. It was still him when he was under him, whispering his name to go faster, harder, deeper.

But at the same time it wasn't.

He was stronger, could pin Bucky against the wall to fuck him and never break a sweat. He has a sort of grace to him that he never had before. He can control a room with one word, whereas he would be getting stepped on years before. It completely drove Bucky insane that this was Steve but wasn't at the same time.

"You're staring," He says softly, eyes shifting over Bucky's bare chest momentarily.

"I'm...not," Bucky defends weakly, looking away. Steve puts his shield down and walks towards him, fingers ghosting over his shoulder.

"It's still me," Steve replies and Bucky sighs, nodding slowly.

"I know that. It's just a lot to get used to, is all," Bucky whispers leaning into the touch. It's been months since Steve has broken into the Azzano HYDRA base and rescued him but he still feels different. Whatever Zola did to him hasn't faded and it leaves him on edge. He surely doesn't tell Steve, doesn't want to worry him.

"Are you okay? You've been a little...distant lately," Steve asks. Bucky nods quickly, giving him a smile.

"I'm fine, Stevie. Let me finish getting ready. The Commando's are probably starting to question what's taking so long," Steve gives him a half hearted smile but Bucky could sense that he knows something. The blond casts him one last glance before picking up his shield and leaving the tent.

 

Another mission success later Bucky finds himself under the scrutiny of Steve. He's been watching him all day and Bucky has had enough of it.

"Steve, stop looking at me like I'm about to implode," He says with a huff. Steve doesn't look away. Dum Dum says something to the other Commando's, making them roar with laughter, beer spilling to the floor around the campfire.

"Fine. Only if you tell me what's wrong with you," Steve counters and the group has gone quiet around them. Gabe is giving the two a curious gaze while the others are pretending not to listen.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rogers," Bucky mutters and turns away to stare at the dying fire. He hopes Steve would drop it but when does he ever have such luck.

"You're acting so tense. Why?" Steve asks shifting closer. Dum Dum has tried to regain the groups attention, trying to lure it away from the bickering duo.

"I don't know Steve, maybe because of what Zola did to me?" Bucky seethes and Steve flinches.

"Buck-" The brunet stands up quickly and disappears into the tent. Steve sighs and drops his head into his hands.

"Don't worry, buddy. He'll come around. Just stressed is all," Dum Dum says with a small smile. Steve hums in acknowledgement. He waits an hour before heading into the tent, giving Bucky enough time to calm down. When he enters the tent, he expects Bucky to yell at him to leave him alone but instead he finds him asleep in the sleeping bag. He looks peaceful, almost like the Bucky from Brooklyn that cared too much for his own good. He was snoring quietly, shifting every once in a while making his dog chains rattle.

Steve kneels to the floor next to him, pushing his hair away from his eyes. Bucky stirs slightly but doesn't wake. The blond sits down properly, sighing quietly.

"You know I love you, right?" He breathes out, staring at his sleeping face, "I'm sorry for being so pressing. I've just - it's always been _you_ who took care of _me_. It was always you who stitched me back up and walked six blocks to the pharmacy to get my medication. It was always you who woke up in the middle of the night to get me a wet rag when I broke out into a fever. I don't know how to take care of you because I never _had_ to."

He turns to look down at his fumbling hands, tears pricking at his eyes.

"Even now, after the serum, you're still taking care of me. You clean up my cuts even though they'll be gone the next day and you make sure I'm eating enough - and God, what did I do to deserve you? I don't deserve you. I love you so much and I will never understand why you've stayed with me through this much," He whispers. He looks back up to Bucky's face and find him staring back at him. His eyes are soft and fond.

"You done, punk?" He asks with a small smile. A blush crawls its way up Steve's neck and settles on his cheeks. He laughs quietly and shakes his head.

"Jerk."

 

**5\. 2014**

"Well the arm itself should be functioning properly now with the new reactor I installed. There might be some kinks at first but it's all in the process of learning, am I right?" Tony rambles, hand flitting aimlessly as if he was swatting an imaginary fly. Bucky looks down at his left arm, watching as the scientist continues to tinker into the open slot with small instruments.

"You will never understand how grateful I am that you let me look at this. You know, since you're so hostile - oh my these circuits are insane! HYDRA: one, STARK: zero. But not for long!" Tony yells excitedly and turns to grab something that looks like a miniature screwdriver. Bucky is about to protest when JARVIS interferes.

"Sir, Mr. Rogers has returned from the retirement home," The AI says, voice filling every inch of the room.

"Aw dang. Maybe another time, huh Buckaroo?" Tony asks and Bucky stares at him before giving him a small nod, even a twitch of a smile.

"Thank you. For fixing. My arm," Bucky struggles and stands up from the chair. He pats Dummy and Butterfingers on the way out of the lab.

He's been here long enough to know his way around the Avengers tower, and the superheroes that live here. He's still tense in large crowds and he wakes up screaming in the middle of the night from nightmares but Steve is always there to hold him and coax him through it.

He passes Bruce on the way to his and Steve's floor, watering a small potted cactus. He smiles softly at Bucky when he sees him, waving a sweater pawed hand. Bucky waves back and heads into the elevator. Natasha and Pepper are there, talking about something called Smashbox. He stays in the corner of the elevator, counting the seconds it takes for him to reach his floor.

"How are you, Barnes?" Natasha asks.

"Good, you?" Bucky looks towards her, giving her an experimental smile.

"Great. Still haven't done nothing for that mop of hair, huh?" Bucky's hands fly up to a loose strand of hair in front of his face. He hasn't cut it, too tense to even be around scissors. Natasha and Pepper laugh, a soft sounding noise that makes Bucky smile.

"I don't. Scissors," He tries and Natasha shrugs her shoulders.

"I could cut it for you. It'll take five minutes, flat," She offers. Bucky is about to reject the offer when he remembers how he's supposed to socialize and let people help him.

"Okay," He whispers and Pepper looks at him with a look of disbelief as if she can't believe he said yes. Natasha is ecstatic, hauling him out of the elevator the moment the doors slide open on Natasha's floor. Bucky grimaces at the contact but doesn't pull away. Pepper follows them while talking on the phone about construction.

Natasha pushes him onto a chair and Bucky's shoulders go rigged at the movement. The memory of him being pushed into the Chair at the bank has him standing up quickly. Natasha lifts her hands in surrender and steps away. Bucky takes a few deep breaths before sitting back down, gripping at the seats edge until he could hear the wood breaking on his left.

"Barnes, calm down. I'm gonna start, okay?" Natasha says and Bucky nods, swallowing thickly. He keeps his gaze down and listens to the snip of the scissors, watching his hair fall to the floor.

 

When Bucky sees Steve after the haircut, he doesn't know what to expect. He surely doesn't expect Steve to take one look at him and break down in tears. Bucky is at his side at once, searching for injuries but there's nothing.

"Why're you crying?" He asks, feeling suddenly naked when he doesn't have his hair to hide behind.

"You," He starts but takes a deep breath, "You look like the old Bucky."

Bucky sighs sadly, thinking this was a terrible idea but Steve is on him in a second, kissing him roughly. Bucky lets out a surprised sound but quickly regains himself, kissing him back with fevor. They're mouths move together with intense familiarity. Bucky will never forget the way Steve felt, like this, under his thumb. It was branded into his mind, a memory that would linger even when he was being electrocuted, drowned, beaten for years. It was his anchor and he would never let him go.

"Steve..." Bucky whispers, pulling away slightly. Steve reacts quickly, jumping away with wide eyes.

"Shit, Bucky, I'm sorry. I don't know if you're ready for that kind of-" Bucky shuts him up with a kiss. He pulls away a second later. Steve is staring at him, breathless.

"I love you," Bucky whispers and Steve lets out a choked sob.

"Love you too. God, I love you," The blond gasps out, kissing him roughly. Bucky lets out a soft laugh, catching a glance of himself in the window. He looked like the old Bucky, hair styled atop his hair perfectly, smile coy and fond with Steve in his arms.

The two end up on the couch, Bucky's head in Steve's lap while they watched shows they missed out on in the past seventy years.

"How's Peggy?" Bucky asks nonchalantly. Although Steve has told him many times before that nothing has ever happened between them, Bucky knows that Steve feels deeply for her.

"She's good. She remembered me today," He offers and Bucky hums.

"I remembered something today too," He says and his voice becomes tense.

"What?"

"I remembered me, you and Peggy sitting around a campfire and she was telling me a story about you. The _grenade_ story," Bucky huffs and waits for Steve to respond. Seconds pass and Bucky looks up to find the blond's face to be completely taken over by a dark blush.

"You jumped on a fuckin' grenade?" Bucky says and Steve splutters, face and neck heating up even more, "You're an idiot, you know that? A fuckin' idiot."

Steve's face resembles a tomato.

"It was a dummy and I-"

"Like you knew it at the time! You have a death wish, Rogers," Bucky reprimands, "Gotta keep you on a leash until I bite the dust."

Steve is completely flustered by now, spluttering and stumbling over his words. Bucky gives a few seconds to boil before he lifts up his hand and fists at the collar of his shirt.

"Don't do anything stupid like that again, ya hear me?" He asks and Steve nods quickly. Bucky hums and leans up to kiss his jaw roughly.

 

**+1 2014**

"The wreaths are supposed to be over there," Natasha snaps, pointing to one of the doors on Steve and Bucky's floor. The blond mutters something response but takes the wreath and hangs it where Nat wants. Bucky sits at their kitchen island, drinking his hot chocolate slowly.

"Do you guys even know how to decorate a tree?" She asks as she stares at the mammoth of a tree in the corner of the living room. Bucky lets out a soft laugh at Steve's annoyed expression.

"It's my first time decorating a tree this gigantic, Nat. Be kind," He grumbles and Bucky stands up, walking over to the two. He wraps his arms around Steve's torso, resting his head on his shoulder. He hums at the feeling of his muscles shifting, burying his nose into the crook of his neck.

"You guys never decorated a tree?" Natasha questions.

"Nope," Bucky answer, voice muffled, "We had those depressing sticks of a tree that you see on Charlie Brown."

"I can't tell if you guys are lying or not," Natasha squints her eyes and Steve lets out a small laugh.

"If only," He replies and goes to finish decorating with Bucky helping where he can. Natasha plays some crappy Christmas music on the stereo, making Steve and Bucky complain about nowadays music choices. The day passes in a blur and at some point Bucky becomes distracted by the heavy fall of snow outside the tower. He leans against the window, memories itching at the back of his head, begging to be let free. He lets them flow, like a gentle stream has opened in his mind. They're soft memories, happy ones.

Steve and him as kids huddling around a small fireplace while Sarah made hot chocolate.

Steve watching Bucky from the window as he made a snowman in the dirty snow.

Steve kissing him under a mistletoe in their home, kissing him until his lips were raw and red. Then making love to him until the cold was a distant memory.

He smiles at the memories, keeping his gaze diverted to the city below. Steve comes up behind him a few minutes later, kissing the top of his head softly.

"Party is in a few. Are you coming?" He asks and Bucky takes a moment to answer. He nods and he could basically feel Steve's happiness radiating off him with the power of twelve suns.

"Let's get ready then. Tony says this is a formal party," Bucky grimaces at the thought of wearing a suit but follows Steve to their bedroom.

 

The party itself isn't horrendous. It's quite enjoyable actually. Bucky mingles with the rest of the Avengers, complimenting them on their outfits and drinking the spiked eggnog. Steve is near him most of the night, touching him one way or another.

At some point Bucky meets a man by the name of Phil Coulson.

"You're Bucky Barnes," He says and Bucky gives him an awkward smile.

"Nice to meet you ehm-"

"Phil! Phil Coulson," He holds out his hand and Bucky shakes it. The man doesn't let go for a few seconds.

"Um," Bucky doesn't know what to do.

"I have a Bucky bear," He says and Bucky tilts his head, confused.

"Bucky bear?"

"And your trading cards. You're _awesome_ ," Phil says with a wide smile.

"Thanks?" Bucky murmurs, looking down at their hands. He's still holding onto him.

"Oh, your hand. Sorry," Phil apologizes and moves away, lifting his hands up in surrender. Steve comes up behind him.

"Hey Phil," he greets him, smiling warmly.

"Captain," Phil replies, glancing at the two, smile growing larger the longer he looks. Bucky feels uncomfortable.

"I'm. I need air," He excuses himself to the balcony. The snow has stopped, but it was freezing cold outside. He closes the door behind him, exhaling loudly, watching his breath form puffs. He leans against the railing, staring down at the city, listening to the people inside, the cars honking below. A small smile makes its way onto his face as he thinks about his life. A few minutes pass and Steve is behind him, leaning against the railing beside him.

"Tonight's great, Stevie," Bucky whispers and the blond hums happily. He turns to look at him and finds him already staring. Steve looks absolutely breathtaking tonight, as if he doesn't every night. But the suit shows off his broad shoulder and slim waist, hugs his body in every amazing way possible. His eyes are bright and excited.

"Yeah, it is. Could be better, though," Steve says with a suggestive smile.

"Hoping to get laid, Rogers?" Bucky asks with a raised eyebrow and Steve laughs loudly but shrugs nonetheless.

"Don't know what I'm hoping for," He answers. He lifts up his arm and at first Bucky thinks he's going to touch him but he raises it over their heads. Bucky looks up to find a small mistletoe dangling from his fingers.

"Smooth," Bucky whispers. Steve laughs again and leans down slowly, breath warm against his skin. Bucky leans up to kiss him, lips molding together. Steve lets out a content noise, dropping his arm to grips Bucky's waist, pulling him closer. The brunet tangles his fingers into his hair, pulling him until they're flushed against each other. Their lips move frantically, tongues tasting every crevice of the other's mouths, hands gripping and touching. It's not cold anymore; it's hot. Blazing hot, like standing in a furnace. Bucky nips at Steve's bottom lip, earning a guttural moan.

They pull away slowly, breathing heavily. Steve lets out a breathy laugh, kissing his lips quickly.

"You still got it," He says with a wide smile.

A blush creeps up onto Bucky's cheeks settling on his neck and ears. He doesn't know why the sudden embarrassment but it's been so long since he's blushed. Steve is staring at him like he hangs the moon and it makes the blush darken. Without another word he leans down and kisses him again.

 

 


End file.
